Author's note: Necromancy has a lot of emotional connotation in Morrowind - it refers to the magical coercion and control of the bodies and spirits of the dead. This is blasphemy to most Dunmer, whose beliefs include maintaining respectful and affectionate ties with those clanmembers who chose to stay and protect their loved ones after death. Note that for Dunmer, dead family are still family, and those who have no known ancestors to protect them are much pitied.
Same song second verse: I don't own any of this. I just play there!
"Die, arrogant s'wit" The harshly accented comment was all the warning she had as part of the wall behind the workbench shimmered to reveal a grey garbed Dunmer. His hair was worn in a crest that reminded her a little of how some argonians looked, and detailed tattooing covered most of the left side of her face. He matched the description she'd gotten of Delvam Andarys, right down to the temper. Even as he came into veiw, he began weaving chill magics out of the air. A small spiral of dust grew at his feet, within moments towering taller and wider than the Dunmer was himself.
Tallis upended one of the worktables, hoping to throw off or interrupt his spellcasting. The table was lighter than she'd expected, made of corkbulb root, and it flipped completely over scattering papers, small glowing gemstones and a silver ring set with an oversized rectangular yellow-grey stone. Her gaze was drawn to it as it tumbled to the ground not far from her right foot, falling as though it weighed more than it should.
"Nchow!" Delvam abandoned his spell, letting the coils of magical darkness unravel as he hastily leapt toward the ring.
If he wanted it that badly, it was probably not a good idea to let him have it. Tallis pounced, grabbing it and jamming it onto the first finger of her left hand. That ought to make it hard for him to get it back, as her left forearm was guarded by the crab-shaped spiked bonemold sheild she'd appropriated after it's fomer owner had failed to kill her. She was smug for just long enough to realize that in order to put the ring on, she had let go of, and not even sheathed, her sabre.
She reached out to grasp the hilt of the sabre.
There was a loud stomp, and then a cracking sound came as Delvam's right foot came down hard on the blade of her sabre. She came away with the hilt, and about three inches of steel beyond it. She looked up in dismay as he started laughing.
"Outlander, prepare to die." He didn't even sound worried, as he began weaving what was probably the same magic he'd started before.
This close, dust and abruptly chill wind made her blink, and try to sheild her eyes with the hand that still held the remains of the sabre. Maybe she could kick him or something. "I really need some help." She muttered. Sharn gra-Muzgob had attempted to teach her a spell that would summon a small daedric creature to fight by her side, but Tallis wasn't really all that skilled at the spell yet.
Suddenly the heavy ring on her finger felt much colder, and another spiral of cold wind and dust rose up; almost a match to the one that Delvam had called into being. She scrambled backward, more of a paniced crab-walk than any kind of dignified retreat, hoping to get out of the way of whatever was arriving.
The air seemed to solidify into two oversized forms. They were both roughly humanoid, but heavyset, and looked like they'd been hastily assembled from the remains of three or four persons. Skin only covered about a third of their bodies; skin the grey color that spoke of these things having been assembled from the remains of Dunmer. Some of the ribs of the one nearest to her looked like they might be upside down, and bones and muscle were sort of sticking out from toso and limbs at odd angles. There was a smell of leather, but they looked disturbingly fresh, for lack of a better, or at least a less nauseating word.
The one closest to Delvam growled at him. If there were words, Tallis wasn't understanding nodding to him, turned to reach it's clawed arms in Tallis' direction.
The one closest to Tallis tilted it's head as it considered her.
Not having any idea what to do, Tallis said. "Hi...serjo." She hoped she was pronouncing the title correctly.
"Polite for an ignorant outlander." It was a low pitched male voice. Disturbingly, the words she was hearing didn't completely match the movements of the creatures mouth.
"She is not the one that twisted us." A bitter female voice, almost overlapping the first voice. Again, the words didn't quite match. It was as if two different people were somehow inside one gruesome costume and were trying to speak through the single mouth. A shiver went down Tallis' back.
"Look." A male voice, but a softer than the first male voice. Make that three people or was it three souls? Whatever this was, it was sort of, well, plural.
"There is he who betrays his ancestors." The third voice was angry, and it seemed to be very personal. "Not to mention his relations." The thing's oddly overlong right arm geatured to where Delvam was slowly backing away.
"Kill him first." Snapped the female voice, her comment somehow overlapping the male voice. "Necromancer." The word was an accusation and a judgement.
"Not happy to face what you have wrought, cousin?" That was the third voice again. Jerkily, the oversized body turned, and the apparently double-jointed left arm made a throwing gesture. Abruptly fire blossomed all around the waist of the angry Dunmer. Delvam screamed; it was equal parts pain and fury.
The creature that Delvam had summoned was trying to make it's way toward where Tallis was just getting to her feet. As soon as the fire appeared, it changed direction to move toward the creature she'd inadvertandly conjured.
Tallis took a moment to reach into the bandolier-style strap across her chest and free up a small vial. Flipping the cork off, not caring where it went, she downed the entire thing. It felt slimy as it went down, but it didn't taste as bad as she'd feared.
Delvam managed to keep hold of the magic's he was calling, and a cloud coalesced in the middle of the room. From it arced a bolt of brightness, a miniature version of the lightning that came with the myriad storms on Morrowind.
Tallis had just enough time to think to herself that this would probably hurt. She was right; the bolt struck and momentarily numbed her right arm, causing her to drop the bottle. Luckily she'd already drunk the potion.
And apparently it was working, because the bold arced from her, over the clashing monsters in the center of the room to strike Delvam in the leg. The same steel-clad leg that had broken the blade of her sabre. Ha, she thought to herself. Serves you right for wearing metal and summoning lightning.
In front of her, Delvam's creature was raking it's claws across the torso of the one she'd called. Bits of flesh, and a chunk of bone were scattered to the ground. She couldn't tell if the creatures could feel pain. Then it occured to her, that if they were temporarily partaking of life, maybe they could. In fact maybe healing would work on them.
She stepped a little closer to the conflict, and started weaving a spell.
Delvam was also casting again, calling up a oval shape of violet energy that wrapped around him.
The creatures clawed at each other, scattering bits of flesh and skin. It didn't look like either one could feel pain, but they both growled as if they felt anger. She could hear snippets of comments, mostly in Dunmeri. She tried to sort out how many voices there were, and if the nearer one had more than three, but she couldn't really tell which one was saying what.
She finished her spell, and a fountain of greenish light erupted under the battle, funneling itself into the torn flesh of the creature nearest her. As the spell finished, she heard the voice that had addressed Delvam as cousin. "I'm coming for you next, kinsman."
As she watched, grey sections of skin regrew across the strange combination of ribs and meat that was the creature's torso. It was working!
Thank you Amarie Charien she thought to herself. The Fort Moonmoth healer, the second other Breton she'd met since coming to this island, had commented that Morrowind was a dangerous place, and it was always a good thing to be able to have your companions back's, so to speak. Healing potions could go bad or be lost, but given a bit of rest and concentration, one could always offer some healing magic.
Once healed, the creature she was starting to think of as 'the cousin' was faster, raking great chunks of meat from it's opponent. The right shoulder splintered, and part of the arm hung, useless, as the creature faded back into dust and chill air.
Delvam continued to layer himself with protective magics. Tallis knew that she didn't have much chance at breaking through them, and it was probably a better plan not to try. Her sabre was broken, but she still had the weirdly light spiked axe she'd found. She pulled it from across her back, and ran toward the necromancer.
"Foolish s'wit." Delvam began, but as he focused on her weapon, his voice abruptly became uncertain.
Whirling the axe blade as she came, Tallis darted to her right, the mage's left. As she'd hoped, he kept his attention on her. If the ring-summoned creature was serious about attacking it's creator, she could at least try to distract him.
She circled high.
Delvam drew his weapon, a shimering black blade of some material that absorbed rather than reflected the light. As he pulled it out of it's sheath, a shimmer of greyness momentarily obscured him. Tallis thought that maybe if she hadn't been looking right at him, she would have lost track of where in the room he was. Probably that was why he'd been so hard to see initially.
He went to block high with his weapon, and she easily circled under it, slicing right across the front of his grey-green robes. For a moment she wasn't certain if she'd actually hurt him or not, but the dark stains that spread across the fabric said that she had.
He cursed then, something in Dunmeri that she didn't know, and he sidestepped, holding the blade as if he meant to skewer her with it. She kept pace with him, and readied her sheild.
And then two overly large hands gripped his shoulders from behind. He had enough time to try and pull away, and with a growl, the creature he'd created ripped him open. It's claws dug into the flesh at the top of his collarbone, and yanked with inhuman strength. Tallis heard the sound of tearing cloth, and the more stomach-churning sound of tearing flesh, and then sort of popping or cracking noises as several sets of Delvam Andarys' ribs were literally broken open.
The mage gagged on whatever he would have said. Blood flowed, soaking what was left of his robes, and starting to pool on the floor. His face went slack as he fell. The sword clattered to lay at Tallis' feet.
"Necromancer." The feminine voice again; the word was a pronouncment of sentance carried out.
Tallis looked up at the creature that stood over the mage's body.
Again, it tilted its head, considering her as it had when she'd first inadvertantly summoned it up.
She raised up the arm with the sheild and ring; right hand making as if to pull it off. "Should I give this back to you, Serjo?" She asked.
"Of course not." Snapped the female voice. "You must destroy it."
"She's an outlander." The first voice, the lowest pitched male voice spoke in a chiding tone. "It would take a Telvanni master to unmake it, or to unmake us."
"A Telvanni..." The female voice made that sound like a dangerous thing.
"She is a Breton, she's has no relatives here to protect her." That was the 'cousin' voice.
"Keep it, then, outlander." The lower voice, the first voice that had spoken was firm. "You have no kin here, we can all feel that is true. You have acted honerably."
"You may call us to protect you." The female voice, grudging but not unkindly.
"Thank you." Tallis said, her voice a little uncertain. "Um, what should I call you?"
There was a series of whispers, as of a rapid conversation in what sounded like Dumeri. Then the third voice answered. "We have been made a bonewalker. You shall call us Volencard."
"Thank you. Serjo Volencard." She said.
If it intended to answer her, there was no time, as it faded into a swirl of dust and chill.
Note: in the speech of the dunmeri; Volen means hammer, and Card means ancestor.